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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28649343">Traced Lines</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunnymauk/pseuds/bunnymauk'>bunnymauk</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Critical Role (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood, Caleb Widogast Needs a Hug, Caleb being very soft for his tief, Cuddling, Death, Gentleness, Implied Sexual Content, Mollymauk Adoration, My love for Molly is channeled through Caleb here, Other, Past Character Death, Pining, Sad Ending, Tattoos, Tenderness, sad but sweet</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 13:36:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>404</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28649343</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunnymauk/pseuds/bunnymauk</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Caleb hates tattoos. They remind him of him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mollymauk Tealeaf/Caleb Widogast</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>52</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Traced Lines</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>In episode 84, over fish and chips, Caleb tells the other lads that he hates tattoos. My goblin brain wondered why that might be... and thus, this. It's short and sad but soft. And it's my first CR fic!! </p><p>Please enjoy :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Caleb hated tattoos. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He often thought of the way his fingertips had traced over the delicate, intricate linework on Mollymauk’s back, the tiefling purring contentedly where he lay against his chest, face carefully burrowed in Caleb’s neck as he nuzzled the bristles of the wizard’s beard sleepily. Gently, his fingers had moved across the patterned skin of his lover, mapping out every line and curve to commit them to memory. The tips of his fingers had trailed down a little, softly passing over Molly’s lower back. Mollymauk had shivered a little at the tender touch, letting out a soft sigh that had tickled Caleb’s neck - and Caleb had smiled a little to himself, something that came easier to him when Mollymauk was in his arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thinking back to their first time, Caleb remembered being awestruck by how Molly’s illustrated skin looked in the dim candlelight, the lavender tone catching the light beautifully, the scales of the snake on his arm seeming to glisten and shift as he moved. Mollymauk did not need embellishments to be stunning, but Caleb had to admit, the overall effect was breathtaking. So much of who Molly was was laid out across his skin, each piece ostentatious and colourful, shining bright in the dimly lit tavern room. Caleb’s hand came up to rest against the red eyes on Molly’s chest. He could feel the thrum of the tiefling’s heart beneath his fingers. Mollymauk smiled, not in that overly toothy way that was so familiar and so very Mollymauk, but softly, tenderly. It made Caleb’s chest ache to think about it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There had been many nights since then, dark and silent, where Caleb’s memories had come back to haunt him, where Molly’s skin had been bathed in candlelight, then blood, then candlelight again as Caleb desperately tried to cling onto those quiet moments together. He remembered how the head of Molly’s illustrated snake had turned crimson, the collection of ornate peacock feathers glistening red in the soft morning light. Caleb’s fingers curled tightly around his own sides as memories flitted in and out of his mind. Mollymauk’s decorated back rising and falling as he slept soundly in Caleb’s arms. Small flecks of snow settling on his lover’s form, turning green and blue feathers white. Caleb remembered every line and curve, every inch of slightly raised, scarred skin, every gentle sound that came with every brush of his fingertips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Caleb hated tattoos. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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